Still Kill The Old Way
by icyboots
Summary: He heard a saying a long time ago: "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." He refused to think it applied to Cloud, for he was an enemy and Sephiroth didn't have the heart. Oneshot. Semi-AU. SxC.


I don't know, this totally doesn't make sense. I just wanted to write seph pining. Well, as much pining as he can manage.

* * *

**Still Kill The Old Way**

* * *

If Sephiroth didn't know any better, he would've thought that he was experiencing an extremely bizarre case of déjà vu. The loud sounds of the reactor's inner structure and the burning stench of Mako, however, told him otherwise, and the weary, bleeding blond who wore the infantrymen's uniform he had at the end of Masamune informed him _when_ and _where_ he was.

In Nibelheim, before his first death.

One that, if he didn't intervene now, would soon repeat again.

His mind wasn't as fogged as it was the first time around, he knew that underestimating this grunt- no, _Cloud_, was going to be his downfall. Mortally wounded with no advantage whatsoever, he beat him. Living under a new identity and his control, he beat him. Suffering from despair and an incurable disease, he overcame it all and beat him yet again.

Cloud Strife kept on living, while he, the one who always had the upper hand, kept on dying.

Perhaps it was sheer instinct to eliminate the threat - or maybe thinking this was all a dream - that made him rush to kill his arch enemy once and for all, preventing the fires of his will from ever setting.

It was easy - so terribly easy - that Sephiroth stared in wonder at Cloud's lifeless body for what seemed to be a lifetime, disbelieving.

It was over.

Never again would Cloud be an obstacle in his way, never would he look defiantly at him with those determined blue eyes.

As he left the reactor in flames, he ignored the sudden feeling of hollowness upon finally claiming victory.

* * *

He abandoned Jenova's - she was never his mother; just a tool to make his quest easier - original plan. He frankly thought it was pointless and opted to fulfill his own. Now that he, for some unfathomable reason, was granted a second chance, he wasn't going to waste it doing other's bidding.

It didn't take him too long to make the world fall into ruin, humans living fearfully under his rule - the way they should be. They were weak, immediately following him when he removed ShinRa from existence.

It was easy. This was all too easy.

* * *

Of course, he expected to see familiar faces, ones that didn't survive before.

It wasn't the same with Zack. It wasn't the same controlling him, fighting him, getting killed by him.

Before, he was all frustrated and itching to come back. Now, he felt relief, for maybe this was all going to end soon.

It didn't.

* * *

He kept being sent back, over and over again, stuck in an endless loop.

He always came back when there was no way to change the course of his life - sometimes a year after Nibelheim, sometimes more. The only way to get out of one cycle was to be killed, and that, he discovered, took a long while; not many dared to oppose him nowadays, after all.

He found himself feeling rather... bored as a result. Empty, almost.

Many times, Sephiroth asked himself about the point of this, why was he being sent back, who took pleasure in watching him live while all he wanted was to rest in peace?

It was strange that he of all people wanted peace when once upon a time, all he wanted was to destroy and wreck havoc.

Now he simply didn't care.

_Ah, but those times were different. Those times had Cloud._

Cloud...

He wondered when Strife turned to Grunt then to Puppet then to finally _Cloud_, a peaceful-sounding name for the fierce young man who owned it. He wondered if Cloud was responsible for his now boring existence, a punishment for killing him all too soon. If he was then Sephiroth was going to laugh heartily, for he lost another round even when his opponent wasn't there.

He heard a saying a long time ago: _"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."_

He refused to think it applied to Cloud, for he was an enemy and Sephiroth didn't have the heart.

* * *

There were times when he succumbed to his body's basic needs, choosing one person within the many crowds that surrounded him to take to his bed. Convincing them wasn't an issue; they were all too eager to please.

There was one little detail about them that he ignored as he took and reveled in their warmth, one little feature that helped him choose, one trait they all had in common that he tried to never think of.

They were all fair-haired, their eyes in all the different shades of blue.

* * *

He was beginning to resign, to accept that this was his ever-lasting fate, when he woke up in his old quarters. The date when he checked it out telling it was three years before the Nibelheim mission.

This was too different from the norm he was getting used to, it was too much, too far back.

_Am I expected to change things?_

The ShinRa employees greeting him confirmed his surroundings. The fact that ShinRa existed - in the prime of its power - made this all too real.

"What's up with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Sephiroth only smirked.

_Funny that President Shinra asked that._

* * *

He changed things, subtle changes that no one noticed - not out of the goodness of his heart, but out of the desire to finally see things play out differently. He'd never allow a repeat of the events he lived many lifetimes in to happen ever again.

As expected, he met many familiar faces again. He regarded some with indifference, like Angeal and Genesis; some with amusement, like Zack; and some with obvious loathing, like President Shinra and of course, Hojo.

When an order to that mission in Nibelheim came to him, Sephiroth refused to answer it, ignoring those who tried to persuade him. And when Hojo brought Jenova to Midgar, thinking of establishing his schemes again, Sephiroth hacked her to pieces.

"I don't see the family resemblance," he noted dully.

Upon being questioned, Sephiroth answered that the good doctor was trying to convince him that a being in a tank was his mother, and that perhaps Hojo needed a leave after his many excellent services.

Hojo stared at him with sheer disbelief. "After all this time... a _failure?_"

Sephiroth could've laughed. "On the contrary, I'm the biggest success you'll ever have."

He once controlled the all-powerful Jenova, after all.

* * *

The way he met Cloud again had been rather... anticlimactic.

He entered the elevator, not noticing the short infantryman that stood behind him until he saluted, "Sir!"

His voice rang an old bell, so Sephiroth regarded him curiously, inwardly cursing the helmet that covered his face. _Could it be?_

"No helmets allowed inside elevators, trooper." There was no rule like that, but like hell he'd directly ask him to show his face.

The other seemed confused, as if knowing that he made up that rule on the spot, but then he gave a slight shrug and removed the helmet, revealing familiar blonde spikes.

Sephiroth would never admit that he had been holding his breath. "What's your name?" he asked, as if he didn't know it already by heart, as if he didn't think of it as much as he thought of his endless cycle of rebirth.

Cloud looked rather startled and nervous and in awe all at once. "C-Cloud Strife, Sir."

It was strange, to have Cloud look at him in admiration instead of hate.

_I was his hero once._

Sephiroth didn't mind it. Not at all.

* * *

It was a known fact that heroes often made their enemies.

And while Sephiroth agreed it applied to many cases, he couldn't help but to think it applied the opposite way in his.

In some morbid, messed up and indirect way, he helped shaping Cloud into the man who defeated him time after time, and that fact sent pleasant shivers down his spine.

He couldn't make the same events happen again; he didn't want to and even if he did, he missed the chance.

He could shape up Cloud in a different way, take him under his wing and train him until he could beat him like he did many times before.

If Cloud Strife ever questioned why his childhood idol took interest in training him, he didn't show it, too busy beaming in sheer glee.

* * *

Sephiroth found himself comfortable in his new life. He wasn't ruling the Planet and humanity, but he had been doing that for so long, the thought of doing it again made him cringe. Not everything was the same; everyone was rather wary about his sudden change and lack of desire to follow orders, Zack was less serious since he still had Angeal with him, and Cloud achieved his dream of becoming a SOLDIER, now a Third soon going on Second.

It took a while and some pushing around in the labs - they'd been doubtful about his reaction to Mako - but Sephiroth knew that Cloud would pull through. He did so in less controlled, more hostile circumstances, surely he could do the same now.

He had gotten used to the way Cloud looked at him, more admiring and respectful with each day passing. Even though he wasn't the same Cloud he knew, he still carried the same spirit, the same fire. His growing skill in combat was a nice reminder, too. Hopefully soon, they'd fight as equals.

He was content, totally satisfied with how things were going.

So why did he take Cloud in an urgent, hungry kiss after a training session? And why did it feel _so_ good?

His questions were forgotten when Cloud woke from his surprised daze, returning the favor with urgency and hunger that rivaled his own.

There were many looks that Cloud gave him in their showdowns. Ones of awe and respect and admiration, ones of loathing and pain, and ones of regret and pity.

Not once, though, did he look at him with such open _want_, the kind of look he was giving to him now.

Holding him closer, Sephiroth decided that he definitely liked this change of pace.

* * *

It was one year later that he found the other side of the bed empty, the tip of a blade pressing dangerously at his throat. Its holder didn't seem to mind his nude state, too occupied with glaring pointedly at him.

"What are you trying to do?"

The eyes that looked at him now didn't belong only to the one of this time, they belonged to one of an older, more damaged one. They were knowing, familiar, unwilling, calculating and far more experienced, a fusion between the lover and the enemy.

Sephiroth never found a more captivating combination.

He could've pretended that he didn't know what the other was talking about, that he didn't remember anything of a past life, but instead he gave a familiar smirk and purred, his voice laced with affection he denied for decades, "Good to see again, _Cloud._"

Both nude, with the markings of their previous activities still evident on their skin, they fought until they bled.

Sephiroth had to admit it.

His heart grew fond.


End file.
